


Shh, it's a bet

by Keiara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gilded Cage, I need a beta, I still hate Ron, Not as good as she thinks she is, Stockholm Syndrome, balance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-27 21:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keiara/pseuds/Keiara
Summary: Hermione had gotten her dream job as had Harry, they would often flirt openly throughout the ministries halls on their way out for the day. It was all in good fun.  They would flirt their way to pick up Ron, then Ron would be all over Hermione until she went to bed. Harry always cringed a little watching the two together, and Hermione figured today would be no different.  When the curses started flying she thought she would be okay, she was with the great Harry Potter. When the crucio struck her it held fast and she toppled to the ground watching as blackness descended over her eyes.She didn't dare move, each movement she made caused a clinking from behind her. The distinct sound of metal against rock.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Crucio

**Author's Note:**

> I don't make money from this J.K. Rowling owns all the characters and the world I just like to write in it.

Hermione blinked, her eyelashes rubbing against something. Still foggy she groaned as she pulled her cheek from the ground. Her body had begun to realize how it ached from spending a night on the cold stone floor. Pushing her self up she heard the clank of the chains as she moved herself to a seated position, she noted that her legs were not only chained together but anchored to the wall. The dampness in the room had seeped into her skin and she couldn't help but shiver as she desperately rubbed her arms for warmth. She tried a wandless warming charm and furrowed her brows when it failed. She tried every wandless charm she knew and not one produced any results. Fear had begun to creep in along the damp cold that caused her bones and muscles to seize and her heart to ache. She assessed the room and let a tear slip down her cheek. There would be no escape. Her only hope would be rescue. She briefly pictured Ron and Harry coming to save her but the hardness of the floor would not let the thought linger.

Last she remembered she had met Harry at the entrance to the auror department of the ministry and they had been attacked while on their way to pick up Ron from the gag shop. She remembered how she and Harry had been harmlessly flirting as they always did. The were walking and laughing arm and arm when the first spell came across their path. From that point spells, hexes, and curses were flying in all directions. The battle had incited too many painful emotions for her, she had been hit with the crucio curse and the memory of her time with Bellatrix flooded her mind. It was just little black spots at first that began to block her vision, the curse continued and she writhed in pain. Soon those little dots expanded to cover her vision in complete darkness before she slumped to ground. Darkness, yes, then the feeling of this floor but a moment ago. Oh gods, she thought, She had been with Harry. She looked frantically around the cell. Where was Harry! 

“Finally awake are we?” A familiar voice said from somewhere in the shadows beyond her cell. 

She hadn't heard him come in, she wondered how long he had been there, how long he had been watching her. She fought the blush the crept to her cheeks, and the small amount of wetness that formed elsewhere. He smelled her arousal and changed tactics as he decided that this could indeed be some fun. 

“Well now that you are awake I have a proposal for you.” She knew that voice even before he stepped into the light. 

She glared at him from her position on the floor, she didn't like the way he used the word proposal, nor the way she was forced to meet his eyes from the dirty floor. 

“This can go one of two ways,” he sighed half heartedly, “Honestly, Granger I am okay with either. You can tell us what you know about time turners, or I will be forced to do unspeakable things to you in pursuit of that knowledge.” The strange twinkle in his eye as he spoke sent a violent shiver up her spine.

“Speaking of unspeakables,” he gave her a pointed look before continuing, “I know where you work, recruited straight out of summer school as it were, and that you personally had access to a time turner during your time at Hogwarts.” Malfoy's voice cut through her, cold and authoritative. 

She looked up at him but offered no response.

“Muggle born's have no sense of self preservation.” He sneered before his lips curled up into a smirk while his eyes trailed the bits of her flesh that were poked out of the torn fabric that was once well fitted muggle jeans.

“I assure you Malfoy, I have no idea what you are talking about.” She spat the words at him. 

His eyes trailed up the figure of the young woman he had harassed in school. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin along her chest, perhaps for a little too long, she brought her arms up to cover the tatters that were once her favourite jumper. 

“Oh, does the poor little Gryffindor princess feels exposed? How does it feel to not be the one in control? How does it feel to know you are under mine?” He sniffed the air pointedly.  
"It smells to me like you might be enjoying the attention at least." That strange twinkle had returned to his eye and it set her nerves on fire. 

“One day princess, you might like the idea of being exposed to me. I shall have to ask the dark lord if he would allow me such ... pleasures.” He gave her a sly wink and licked his lips.

Her eyes grew wide and her body involuntarily shuddered at his statement. She hardened her eyes with conviction, “The dark lord is dead.” She almost spat the words at him not dignifying the rest of his statement with any response.

“Oh dearest princess, how wrong you are. Your little friend Potter could, and maybe to spare you should have told you more, but looks like the lioness was left out of the loop. Maybe he just didn't trust you with such information? Hmmm...I wonder if the weasel knows the truth? Maybe your not a golden trio anymore. Hmm...maybe, just maybe, you never were. I mean that we are out of school they don't need you anymore, how often do you three get together? Holidays, birthdays and maybe an occasional trip to the pub? How does the weasel treat you? Does he still confide in you? Does he still whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Does the weasel still make your heart flutter like you were in school? Does his touch light your skin on fire? Tell me dear princess, does he tells you where he goes after he leaves your flat at night?” A blank stare was all he received back as she processed his statements, as if he knew he had given her enough to contemplate he simply turned and walked away. 

She mulled over Malfoy's words she could justify keeping things from Harry and Ron as an unspeakable, but she also couldn't justify either of them not telling her the dark lord had returned. Malfoy had been right about them not spending near as much time together in the six months since the war the trio had indeed grown apart. He had touched on other issues that she was not willing to think of right now though even the fleeting thought of it caused her to imagine the pained look on Molly's face. 

She shook her head of the thought and began to look for sources of light but found no natural ones to help her determine the passage of time. A house elf would bring her food and water though it wouldn't look at or speak to her. The elf was well dressed wearing well fitted robes. She knew the elf never brought her a meal at the same time, it was obvious her captors were attempting to throw off her internal clock. She believed she had been there for three days, though she couldn't be sure how long she had originally been unconscious for. There was no guard to watch change and she had discovered ,what felt like days ago, the one window she could see had been charmed. The window only displayed a view of the starry sky but the only constellation it ever displayed was Draconis. Somehow she was not surprised. It was reminiscent of the charm one uses on the ceiling of a child's bedroom.

Time passed. Days more she guessed. She had begun to feel like both her captors and the rescuers she hoped for had forgotten about her, no one had talked to her since Malfoy's original visit. Though she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. 

Hermione awoke to the sound of muffled voices she strained to hear the conversation but her ears perked at the sound of what she thought was Harry's voice.

“It's a bet then.” The words were followed by the two men laughing. 

The way they laughed unnerved her, she pushed it from her mind. It couldn't have been Harry she had heard, he would be disarming death eaters left and right to free her from this cage. 

She couldn't tell you any longer if had been days, or weeks, or months that she had slept on this cold stone but she could tell you that there was no way out, and it had become painfully clear that no one was coming for her. She broke down the moment she woke each morning, and allowed the tears to stream down her cheeks she sobbed knowing that she was truly helpless. She had tried wandless spells to free herself or communicate but one had bounced back painfully and the rest had no effect at all. She had tried everything the most brilliant witch of their age could think of and she could not to free herself from this cell.

“Fucking hell Granger, you look like shit.” Malfoy's voice brought her back from her thoughts and she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. 

She wanted to yell and to scream at him but she hadn't spoken to another person in so long all she could do was look up at him from where she was seated on the floor letting a small hiccup escape her lips.

“Hello Malfoy,” she whimpered before gathering her strength and what was left of her dignity.

He waited as he looked down on the pitiful creature before him and knowing he was one step closer to winning his bet. He couldn't hide the dark smile that crept along his lips, his patience was going to pay off.


	2. Chapter 2

____________________________________()()()()()()()()____________________________________

Hermione had grown so lonely in her time in the dungeon that she found herself worried that her response would anger him and he would leave her down here to rot for Merlin knows how long again. 

“Of course I look like shit,” She started to say almost seething before checking herself. “I find my accommodations are lacking in the self care department and...” She trailed off checking herself again. 

“Please do express just how uncomfortable you are?” The words tumbled from his mouth with something Hermione didn't recognize coming from Malfoy. 

It through her off as it almost sounded like concern, she knew he couldn't be concerned for her, she knew he hated her. There was something in his eye that night, something kind, something she didn't recognize. He was looking at her almost the way Ron looked at Pizza after Harry had brought some for him to try, with a kind of unyielding hunger. The thought sent electricity up her spine. 

“Are you REALLY ok?” He asked again, this time putting on his most sincere voice. 

“Yes.” She whispered back.

Fuck. He had been wrong, she needed more time, or a nudge of some kind. No matter though, he was still prepared just not as patient.

“I am sorry.” He spoke with that same sincere voice but at a whisper, her eyes widening with every word. 

“I have to go away again, I will be gone a long time. I truly hope that you will be okay.” He had used his arsenal of barely audible whispers. He leaned in closer to the bars and forced his nose not to recoil at the smell that wafted from her unclean form. 

“Please stay with me a little longer, call me names, call me mudblood if you must, but talk to me a moment longer before you go.” She regretted the words before they had left her lips but her mind craved stimulation and he was all she had seen for what seemed like months. 

“All right, Hermione.” He said trying to hide his disdain as he tested her first name on his lips, but he scorigfied the ground against the wall and sat down facing the mudblood who was the centre of a bet he fully intended on winning. 

“So,” He managed a smile in her direction, ”got anyone special in your life?” 

She wanted to be angry, the bloody git knows she is with Ron, he was trying to push her buttons. Most days she would try to hex him for this behaviour but today she found it genuine also she had no wand and the room was warded against magic, well her magic at least. She smiled and almost laughed, the fuck Hermione, she reminded herself that she needed to keep it together. 

“Yeah, you git, Ron. Since Seventh year.” She almost turned her nose up but thought better. 

The way his face fell into a frown and his mouth opened and closed for a moment before he leaned forward into the light so she could see his face better. 

“You could have done so much better than a Weasley.” He said as if it was a matter of fact statement.   
Her stomach tingled almost like butterflies as she searched for a way to respond, her mouth was moving before her brain caught up and her curiosity got the better of her.

“Whom might you believe would have been the better choice for once with my,” She coughed for dramatic effect before shooting up a eyebrow, “status.” 

No I thought not, not even time in the dungeon can sedate her wit, without missing a beat though he failed to hold back the anger in his voice as his answer slythered from his tongue. 

“Anyone, and I truly mean this Granger, anyone BUT a Weasley.” He was in the process of catching his misstep he want to cultivate and confuse not anger, he finished with a little huff. “He could ruin you.” 

His mind turning endlessly looking for her response searching her face for a hint of the reaction he wanted. 

Hermione watched as he searched her face for something, her breath hitched at the thought, could he...no he could not, he was a pure and she was nothing to him. She remembered a time when a rumour had spread that Lucius had made the claim that mudbloods were born for affairs to be sullied and used while purebloods were for marriage and child bearing. 

“What do you care?” She asked the question with more heat than she intended.

“Obviously I must, or you would be in another death eater dungeon right now waiting for you turn to be violated or better yet, I could have let them use you there and leave you for dead or for your Ronnikins to find bleeding and broken both mentally and physically.” 

Malfoy had caught the moment her breath hitched, he felt the beginnings of it, he was going to win. Oh yes, he was. He had been the only contact for quite some time now and he was not a bad specimen to look at if he did say so himself. He put on his saddest eyes as he leaned almost dangerously close to the bars of the lioness' cage. 

“I better see you when I get back, Granger. Don't give up down here.” He let his voice waver at the end before he apperated from the room not giving her a chance to respond. 

Hermione burst into tears, the only human contact she had was going away for a long time, she had forgotten to ask him for how long, she had forgotten to ask him how long she had been here. She wanted to ask him if Harry and Ron were okay since no one had come to her rescue. She had failed herself by getting lost in the simple and short contact. 

She had been going over her last conversation with Malfoy in her mind letting the sound of his voice ring in her ears. Remembering how he had looked and sounded so concerned for her. Was he a changed man, did he hate what he was doing, did he know how gorgeous his jawline is? Hermoine shook her head at the thought. Though she did find it curious that she had never thought of Ron quite the way she had just thought of Malfoy. She really had been here too long. 

Draco had been marking the days on the calendar, he had just shy of three months in preparation though he knew needed to be done within the year to win this bet, he also knew that three months wasn't long enough for what he wanted. So he waited. 

“Were almost a third of the way there.” Once again a familiar voice called Hermione from her trance like state though it seemed she could no longer place it. 

“Do you think you'll win.” The voice was taunting someone else in the room. 

“Oh yes, I do.” Her heart picked up at the sound of the second voice. 

“Maybe we need to add a new element to this bet, let's see what happens at the half way point we...” the voices trailed off. 

Malfoy had come back, Hermione was sure of that much. Maybe he would come and talk to her again, maybe she could convince him to help her in some way. He did once, why not again. Her mind had wandered over their first conversation, the dark lord lives again, but they had destroyed him and all his bits. She had gone over the hulcruxes in her mind over and over. Yes, they had most certainly gotten them all and Voldemort had done himself in when he killed Harry. A bell sounded somewhere in the back of her mind at the thought of her friend, but she was lost in a train of thought and pushed it away. The thought gnawed at the back of her mind, pulsing there, though she continued to ignore it. 

Hours passed before she heard the voices speak small platitudes before the sound of apperation cracked through the dungeons, she covered her ears feeling like they might burst. She counted in her head trying to calm her heart beat something had her on edge but her mind had become fuzzy from stress. As always she heard him before she saw him. 

“Granger?” It was more of a question than a statement.

He stepped into the light his white button down shirt was rolled up to his elbows and his slacks somehow still appeared neatly pressed though she guessed it was later in the day. The light reflected of his hair and the shadows only served his features. She drunk the sight of him in like he was a fine wine. Her mind thrummed in anticipation of conversation, something to bring her back from the brink. Oh gods, she thought as the scent of his cologne he smells amazing. She was lost for a moment again trying to decide if he actually smelled good or if he smelled good because her own smell caused her eyes to water. He caught her eye and pulled her from her thoughts again. 

He smiled at her, but his steel grey eyes bore holes through every part of her they graced over. 

She was losing hope, she was losing faith, the longer she stayed she feared more and more that she would loose her self. She cried the moment she knew he grasped that she was broken. 

“I can't anymore.” She sobbed. 

“Is Ron...” She choked back another sob. 

He put on a sombre face but chose to only nod in response to her question. He knew she would eventually ask about the dynamic duo, most likely the weasel first, he would savour this moment. This is the moment he has been waiting for and he fains reaching for her but pulls his hand back quickly. Her eyes respond to the attempted contact and she attempts a genuine smile before it quickly falls away.

“It's okay,” She spoke just above whispered, “You don't have to pretend to care.” She cried freely.

He leaned back into the shadows and drew a hand threw his hair to cover the unholy smile he knew was plastered on his face. He quickly checked himself before he drew in a breath to weave a tale for Hermione of the noble death of the weasel. 

He leaned forward and spoke choosing his words ever so carefully.

“I was told not to tell you, that you would probably try to take your own life if you knew.” This was the moment that she had dreaded for what felt like months in this cell. 

Hermione let out a small sob but straightened her back like she could handle more. He knew this wouldn't be the last straw for her now fragile mind but it was close. He believed this moment could go one of two ways, the way he wanted or he would eventually drive her mad. 

He told her the tale of how the weasel had come to rescue her but the dark lord had known, he gave her a look wrought with fear to emphasize Ron's traumatic exit from this world. The dark lord had been one step ahead, he had chosen that night to make his presence known to the magical world, and he did so by showing the world that the golden trio would never be the same. 

Draco had seen women cry before but not like she did in that moment, she was most truly a broken heap in front of him. A mess of hair and fluids that collected just out of reach on the other side of the prison bars. The mass of hair shifted but wouldn't look at him as the question passed through her lips.

“And...and...Harry?” she sobbed again. 

She felt a hand touch her back but then they quickly pulled away. She whimpered at the loss of the contact, arching her back into his hand she found herself relishing the warmth she found there.

He was glad she was covering her face for he was finding it difficult to remove the smile from his own. 

She wanted to pull away, she wanted to hit him, curse him, or worse, but she also never wanted him to stop touching her as she concentrated on his thumb drawing slow circles on her back. Her breathing slowed, she swallowed hard, and mustered the last of her courage.

“Malfoy, what about Harry?” She asked again. 

She felt as his muscular arms pulled her close, she noticed he was now sitting in the dirt as he pulled her into his lap like a child. He pushed aside a mat of dirty hair to give her a meaningful look before he leaned so close she could feel his breath on her ear and whispered.

“Yes Hermione, I know you can feel it. I know, you know, but if you want to make me to say it...Your Harry is gone too, but that is a tale for a different day. I am afraid this may have been too much for you in your current state.” He took that moment to pull her chin up so he could look into her eyes. 

“Are you going to be okay, little lioness?” He asked her with a sweetness even he didn't know he could fake.

“I don't feel much like a lioness.” She admitted through her tears though she didn't know why.

“What do you feel like then?” He whispered in her ear. 

“I couldn't even consider myself a kneasle at this point.” She whimpered. 

“Deep breaths kitten, I have you now.” He cooed in her ear. 

She didn't bat an eye at his new name for her. She didn't know if she wanted to be a kitten, but in that moment she also couldn't decide that she didn't want to be one.

“Right now I have no where else to be.” he was laying it on rather thick even he had to admit that, but he rather liked the idea of having a little kitten around. 

As if on cue she began to tear up until she was a sobbing mess again this time instead of letting her cry on the floor he let her cry on him. He had been tracing a line up and down her hip when he looked down to see she was hiding her puffy eyes in his chest while she clung to his shirt like it was a life line. She seemed so fragile in that moment, he couldn't help himself as he wrapped himself protectively around her. She simply snuggled in further, and sighed allowing herself to drift off in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head, before abruptly sitting up and looking around the room. Blankets...Sweet Circe..No. She looked around the room, it was adored with the finest of things and clad in colours of silver and green. Maybe falling asleep in Draco's arms had been a dream something she had conjured to help her through another hard night. Wait did she just refer to him as Draco. Now it was obvious she had been here too long. 

She began to assess the room a bit more when she heard a knock at the door.

“Yes.” She croaked out, she had not realized how dry her throat was until she tried to speak. 

Malfoy stood in the doorway in full business attire, he smiled as he looked over her in the bed. 

“You look so much better this evening.” He said with a wink as he let his eyes travel her figure once more. 

This caused Hermione to feel exposed and she glanced down before pulling the covers up over her half covered breasts. She was scantily clad, at best, in a deep forest coloured chemise.

“Green is your colour.” he said in a far too seductive tone before he subconsciously licked his lips.

Hermione's stomach flipped like she was a first year about to receive their first kiss. Hermione contemplated the meaning behind it and chalked it up to his terribly good looks and the way he held her in his arms last night. Blinking back sleep, she thought of the comforts he had said to her, but also his words. Ron was gone and... oh gods... her poor sweet Harry too. Desperately trying to make any sense of this situation she found herself in. 

He could see the gears in her head turning he knew he had given her many things to think about last night so this morning he had decided he would go easy. He had brought her a glass of water, he walked toward the bed and her breath hitched in her throat and she pulled the blankets closer wrapping her arms around her torso.

“I brought you a glass of water,” he looked down at the floor as if he was trying to avoid eye contact. “After last night I thought you might be a bit... dry.” 

She was shaking like a leaf as he approached, and he tilted his head, before pursing his lips and responding through gritted teeth.

“Merlin Granger, did you think I was going to...I mean...gods Hermione, I know you think poorly of me I just didn't realize how low you think I will go. I have never had to force someone to bed me and I am not about to start now. Muggles, who would have thought you could be wound so tight. I mean don't get me wrong, I will seek out a good view if one is provided.” He purposefully grazed his eyes across the top of the blanket that was drawn tight against her frame still giving him a rather idea of her shapely torso. 

“I do like a good show now and then” He finished with a wink to try ease her mind.

He must have appeared sincere enough, though with the blankets constantly slipping of her now clean body revealing bits of skin here and there he was beginning to think he had chosen the wrong course. If he only slipped once or twice he could always obliviate her. He smirked at the thought.

“Draco,” She looked up at him with such innocent eyes, “Two things; how did I get here, li-like this?” She paused looking down at the bed and gesturing at the slip of cloth she was clad in, before asking her second. “Will you tell me what are you thinking right now?” 

He smiled, she genuinely had no idea what she could do with that body she kept hidden away under Molly Weasley's disgusting jumpers. 

“Deep breath in, pet,” she didn't even try to fight it and simply did what she was told. “I had a house elf clean you up and dress you appropriately for bed. I assure you outside of my own mind I have been a perfect gentleman. Breath out” He stressed the outside of his own mind part while suggestively moving his eyebrows.

“As to what I was thinking just now, I feel that it might be best if I kept it to myself. I seem to remember you have a mean right hook.” He watched as she went from a sniff to a quiet giggle to a groan that brought her hands to her face revealing the open back of the camisole and the smooth line of her hourglass figure as the blanket pooled around her waist.

Draco muttered under his breath when he could pull his eyes away, he had a bit of a soft spot for alabaster skin. He was lost counting the barely visible freckles on her shoulder when she moved to look at him again. 

Tears well up in Hermione's eyes as her brain catches up to the choice of words he used, has she seen him so wrong for so long or has she begun to fall prey to some terrible scheme. Then just like that the idea struck her like light bulb switched on in her head.

“Drac...Malfoy I have decided this is some strange and horrible trick you are playing on me and I don't believe a word of it.” With that she crossed her arms and turned away from him. 

He seemed to lean closer to her but instead he moved to a set of shelves on the wall near the bed. He pulled what she recognized as a pensive off the shelf and handed it to her. Wandless whispers flew off his tongue with an unholy speed and he pulled a memory from his mind and placed it for Hermione to watch. He placed a hand on her shoulder and hung his head down. 

“If you need to see, you can. You need to be prepared though. I skipped over the details in our previous conversation on this matter.” He pressed his lips thin, he was surprised at how offended he was that she didn't believe him.

He found himself quite offended. Had he lied to her thus far, no, no, he had not. So where did she get off treating him so. Checking himself he remembered not only was he holding her here against her will, but that he had a plan to follow and a goal to attain.

She knew she had been the one to add the tension to the room, but this tension was preferable than the tension she was beginning to feel previously. She was tense and she looked to him for ...something.  
Guidance maybe.

“For Merlin's sake Granger! If I bloody wanted to hurt you I would have done it by now. I could have beaten you bloody and simply obliviated your memory of it. I could have been less than a gentleman Granger.” He reached out and put his hand around her neck squeezing gently. Instead of looking at him with fear she simply tilted her head back to give him a better grasp squeezing her eyes shut.

He moved his hand up to her face tracing his thumb across her bottom lip causing her eyes to snap open wide before he gently cupped the side of her face. She had been so devoid of contact for months that he almost laughed as she rolled her face further into his hand. 

“I could have taken you by force at any time. I may have been a proper git growing up Hermione but I would NEVER force myself on a woman. Honestly, let me say this really slowly for you as you seem to be having trouble with it. I. Have. Never. Forced or taken advantage of. ANY. WOMAN. Nor would I ever.” He let the tension fall from his face before chancing to look into her eyes to gauge her response.

This time she sniffed and he watched as a little a blush crept across her nose. 

“So I am still intact then?” She questioned so softly he almost didn't catch it.

He pressed his lips gently to her forehead before he whispered brushing his lips gently against her ear. 

“Yes kitten, you are still...intact, as you put it.” 

His proximity was causing her heart to quicken and she found herself staring into his steel grey eyes.   
She tentatively put her arms around his neck before pulling herself up to hug him allowing the covers to fall the rest of the way from her body. 

“Thank you.” Her voice sang with the relief she felt from his words.

His hand instinctively snaked around her waist resting gently at the smile of her back ever so carefully returning the gesture. Her bare skin was silky to the touch, you would never know she had spent a third of a year in the dungeons. He drew back when her breath increased as he brushed his thumb up and down the skin just above her rear, his mind still wandering around the fact that somehow she had not allowed anyone to weasel into her nickers. 

“You are not going to want to do that again after you see.” He said as he pushed the pensive toward her. 

She just shook her head and steadied herself. She needed to see. 

He waved his hand about in another moment of wandless magic, and Hermione was pulled into the memory. She stood in horror on the manor grounds spells and curses flying between two sides. She was Malfoy, he was casting jinxes at aurors across the grounds, no curses or spells that were deadly. She somehow managed to note his choices in the chaos. She heard Ron's voice across the grounds and watched as Neville tried to pull him behind cover while he screamed that she was in there and that they were doing gods knew what to her. It was a strange comfort to see that Malfoy was not using unforgivables in this battle even stranger that she notices. Ron spots Malfoy and to her shock Ron sends a crucio his way it lands and she/Malfoy falls to the ground trying not to scream in pain. A dark haired man stepped in front of Malfoy on the ground never looking back at him. With a wave of his wand he called out in the voice she remembered hearing once or twice from the dungeons. 

“Crucio.” The curse struck Ron to the ground and left him writhing until he collapsed. The dark haired man stepped closer to Ron, and shot a second crucio and then a third before finally sending a killing curse at the crumbled mass of red hair on the ground. Glancing around she saw Neville on the ground blood seeping from thousands of cuts on his skin. She gasped, throwing her hand up to cover her mouth.

She could feel the tears running down her face the memory faded before she could see the face of the man that had killed Ron. Draco was sitting on the bed once again tracing circles on her back as she sobbed and though it disgusted her, on some level she found herself taking comfort in his touch. He let her cry for a while and when her sobs died down to sniffles and the occasional hiccup he shifted himself from the bed and headed to the door she assume led to the loo.

“The en-suite is stocked with supplies and the elf has purchased appropriate clothing for you. I warn you, the house is warded, you can always use that Gryffindor brainless approach trying in vain to escape but I would much prefer if would just give in and join me for dinner in an hour. The choice is, of course, yours.” She nodded and rose from the bed placing the pensive back on the shelf she had seen him take it from. He opened the ornate door that lead to the bathroom and she made her way past him.

He watched as she took in the room the ornate tap ware, as she ran her finger tips along the counter and as she caressed the green and black towels. He watched as she tested the temperature of the water, and smelled some of the bath products he had the elf set out for her. He noted how she closed her eyes when she smelled jasmine or vanilla as she added the oils to the bath. She seemed lost to her own thoughts yet strangely unaware of how utterly alluring she was in that moment. 

He stepped lightly back to the door though he didn't want to admit that he would rather linger. He turned back to remind her of the time remaining before dinner when she stood facing away from him she removed the straps of the chemise and let it drop to the floor. He let a feral growl escape from his lips at the sight of her before forcing himself to close the door. 

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound and a different kind of shiver slithered delightfully up her spine. She pondered over the fact that Ron had never made her feel like that with a sound...mind you, he had also never seen as much of her skin as Draco just had. She shook her head as she stepped into the bath, you would almost think she didn't hate the blonde git.


End file.
